


Things Learned Between Costumes

by zarabithia



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, You Can Pry the Present Tense From My Cold Dead Hands, implied past Sam Wilson/Riley, implied past Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1477111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A month after starting on their worldwide Trip to Bring Back Bucky, Sam starts to think that maybe he needs a new look. He also starts to think that Steve Rogers is going to be the death of him, and it has nothing to do with the fights they keep finding themselves in the middle of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Learned Between Costumes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr meme for the prompt "Seeing red."

A month after starting on their worldwide Trip to Bring Back Bucky, Sam starts to think that maybe he needs a new look, because as far as costumes go, his has about had it. Okay, in fairness, it had about had it after their decision to commit treason and take down Hydra in one almighty bang. But he’s been holding on, mostly out of nostalgia.

If Riley could be here, he’d kick Sam’s ass for being so ridiculous and holding on to the ratty bits and pieces of a basically non-functional costume. Unfortunately, Riley isn’t here - and maybe if he was, Sam wouldn’t even be in this situation, because maybe they would have been in that brownstone they’d talked about, far away from DC, and Steve Rogers would still only be some guy in the history books… who’d come back to life to blow a hole through a major government organization - so Sam is left to come to the conclusion by himself. It takes him a month to learn to let go.

Steve’s been working on a new costume design, too, longer than Sam has. But Steve knows a thing or two about the inability to let go of something connected to your old partner, so he doesn’t offer any judgment when Sam brings it up.

"Stark’s been sending me texts offering to make you new wings," Steve tells him. "I’ve been pretending that I don’t know how to use a smartphone and ignoring those texts."

"You keep on doing that," Sam answers, because he’s seen enough damage that Stark tech has done; he isn’t going to wear it on his back. "He didn’t make my old wings, and he isn’t making the next set."

"Yeah, I figured you’d say that." Steve grins at him over shitty hotel coffee and a chipped coffee cup that couldn’t quite bear the weight of a super soldier’s grip and gave way with a crack along the top rim two weeks ago.

If Sam is being honest with himself, he admits that sometimes he looks at that cup and wonders what it would be like to have the full weight of that super soldier grip on his own body. Would it leave bruises, because Sam can’t imagine that it wouldn’t? Would the guilt that never quite leaves Steve Rogers’ presence show up in the aftermath of those lovingly left bruises, or would he smirk back down at Sam before doing something much more useful than an apology?

It’s only been a month, and Sam is doomed, if he’s already having these kind of thoughts.

"Anyway, we patched up the wings, so we don’t need Stark tech." Sam isn’t the Wakanda supergenius that he knows is behind those wings, but he can handle those wings better than anybody this side of Wakanda, thank you very much.

"No, you just need a design. Fortunately, you have an artist at your disposal." Steve exchanges his cup of coffee for a completely ridiculously decadent doughnut, and offers Sam half. "Did you have any specific ideas for the new design?"

Steve bites into the cream of the doughnut and rest his mama’s soul, Sam is never, ever, ever going to survive this trip. A heart attack is coming, and whether it comes from trans fats or Steve Roger’s lips is the only mystery at this point.

"I was thinking something with a bit more color this time," Sam says, focusing on his own pastry for a grateful distraction. "I do look pretty amazing in red."

"You’d be a pretty bright target up in the sky in red," Steve points out.

"And birds of prey are pretty loud when they screech through the sky," Sam answers. "It’s only a problem if they find something good enough to catch them. Isn’t likely in a Falcon’s case, is it?"

"Nope," Steve says, as he reaches for a pad and paper. He shuffles through his duffle pad to find the colored pencils that Sam has insisted on, mission or no mission. He finds the red pencil and settles down on the bed opposite of Sam. A ridiculous pink tongue sneaks out to lick ridiculously red lips while Steve concentrates, and it’s settled.

The trans fats aren’t even going to have time to kill Sam. It’s going to be death by Steve Rogers.


End file.
